


Summer Depression

by WeeHawken



Category: My Hero Academia
Genre: Character Study, Depression, Other, im now getting the courage to post this up, no proof reading, super vague, the main character is Aizawa, written at 3 am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 04:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15655779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeeHawken/pseuds/WeeHawken
Summary: ‘ Night, a beautiful creation for the lost souls that couldn’t rest during the thick chill of the pin pricked carpet of black that was blanketed over the globe.‘Or, Aizawa ponders the meaning of his life under a sky of onlookers





	Summer Depression

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading????

Night, a beautiful creation for the lost souls that couldn’t rest during the thick chill of the pin pricked carpet of black that was blanketed over the globe. It was a luxury so many slept through, but this soul, lost as they had been so many times before on nights like this sat with trembling hands, and flowers sprouting from his mind, sitting around his temples like a crown, the night claiming the king of the lost souls.

 

A man, a man broken so many times that when he stood on his feet, and straightened his spine altitude sickness was something that was received, sending the spiral of recovery back to the harsh beginning, back to the harsh vile truth. But those? Those were attempts during the frail creation of daylight, leaving those full of youth, and imagination hungry for something more, the sun is a star that hung weakly in the sky by a single thread, crafted by those marketing on the foolish who set their time to a schedule.

 

The stars were rewards for every broken hearts that looked for something more than a schedule, looked for something more than clouds in the sky, and a single star, to bright to look at, and to harsh to enjoy.

Those who were broken, and who stayed alert during the time of enveloped darkness sat upon rooftops, drawing lines between each stamped star, creating their own signs, creating their own finish line so they wouldn’t have to rely on those before them.

 

That’s what those children born into the night did, they claimed their own path, dug their own home into the world, but nobody knew, and that was ok.

 

This man sat with those shaking fingers pressed to his lips as he swallowed the smoke from destruction, here he sat silently leaning against cold railings, biting into his scared arms as he craved the emotion, what emotion? Well love, love so strong that it turned him into an etchi-sketch and could shake the broken out of him.

 

He’d been on this road for so long, it was tedious and confusing, twist and turns under the shades of purple. This man took one last drag from the sick that he held between two fingers, flicking it down off the balcony and watching it fall into the darkness that almost seemed to friendly to the raven, causing him to linger a little to long, lean a little to far-- STOP.

 

He closes his eyes, and this man pulls himself from the thoughts, it doesn’t take long till he’s back inside a house, a home, empty.

 

The sun, the star profited by millions had started to rise over the tops of concrete trees, lighting the other world the man with raven hair avoided, it was time for him to sleep.

 

This world wasn’t friendly to his kind. This world wasn’t friendly to the believers.


End file.
